Words Unsaid
by Moonlit Dreaming
Summary: Before leaving Hogwarts, Salazar writes a letter to Helga. Fanfiction prompt. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and the wonderful founders... not mine!

**Author's note: **Written for Daily HP Fanfiction Prompts: "286. Before leaving Hogwarts, Salazar writes a letter to Helga." It also works within the same timeline as my other Founder Era story, _Binding Light. _As always, I'd love some feedback. :)

Words Unsaid

There was a reason she went to his office – a document she needed, or possibly a class list.

But whatever the reason, it had long since departed Helga's thoughts.

She sunk into the chair behind his desk. Both were typically elaborate and made of dark, highly polished wood. They were _very_ Salazar. His room was situated in the dungeons, near their potions classroom, and so it was slightly gloomy. Silver lamps hung from the low ceiling, casting a dim, ethereal light on everything they touched. There was a large, blackened fireplace that remained unlit. The mantle was adorned with half-melted candles, forgotten books and, strangely, the wrinkled, long ago-used skin of a snake.

The flagstone floor was thinly coated with dust. It was perhaps the only sign that the room was no longer occupied.

Everything else – the clutter on the desk, the unfinished candles – suggested that the occupant could be back at any moment.

Helga knew otherwise.

It was a mere trick. His office was a moment frozen in time. It was a monument to the afternoon he left in a hurry, without looking back. It was a lonely room, she thought, casting her eyes around, and it had been for months.

And now she held in her shaking hands a piece of parchment with her own name written upon it.

_Helga._

How long ago had he written it? Why? He had no need to write to her... he saw her in person every day. _Used to._

Fingers trembling, Helga unfolded it. The words were unmistakeably Salazar's. She had always remarked upon his elegant handwriting. It curled across the page, slanting at a precise angle, in ink of a deepest green. How typical! She smiled for the first time since she had entered the room and began to read.

_If this letter has reached you, nothing has gone to plan. I am not used to my plans failing and I hope it hasn't come to this. _

_The dissolution of our group has been a long time coming as I'm sure you're aware, and I'm certain one as perceptive as you has felt it, even when you did not want to admit it. _

_You may think of me as an antagonist, the bringer of trouble – undoubtedly you do, if you're reading this letter – but know that I did not want this either, Helga. You may think that a noble heart is Godric's alone and that Rowena is the only possessor of true wisdom. But know also that looks are often deceiving, that nobility and wisdom can be hidden within._

_Know that I, too, am a good man._

_Do not let your impressions of me sour, no matter what has happened in the moments before you read this letter. I can only hope that I have not tested your forgiveness too sorely. If I have one regret, that would be it. You are a woman of honesty, purity – and I see you in my mind's eye, wincing at that word._

The writing became a little less legible and a little more frantic.

_I mean purity of heart – something you have in abundance. Godric and Rowena I can rival. That I cannot hope to touch. _

She stopped reading. The letter had ended abruptly. Certain words had been scratched out and blotted with ink so that she could no longer make out their meaning.

_Finally remember – _

Remember what? Helga stood with a heavy sigh, tucking the letter into her robes. "Remember..." Her mind flooded with the memory of an explosive duel in Entrance Hall and Salazar fleeing. She remembered acutely the pain tearing through her chest at the sight of two old friends destroying each other. "I could never forget," she muttered.

Salazar was right to think he had tested her forgiveness sorely. But he had no need to remind her that he was a good man.

She had known that long before he sat down to write this letter.

Leaving the office, she thought fleetingly of checking the parchment again by candlelight. Perhaps then she could make out the smudged and blotted words. But she shook her head. Some things were better left unsaid.


End file.
